


Time For A Change

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, College Student Stiles, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Meeting in a Coffee shop, Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans Stiles Stilinski, nonbinary Scott McCall, soft derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: He just says, “You sure you want that? I’m trans.” Because he might as well get that out of the way first.





	Time For A Change

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been wanting to write a trans guy Stiles fic for ages, and I finally did it. Fair warning, this fic is very self-indulgent.

Stiles goes to the same coffee shop every morning before class. It’s not exactly on the way, but he’s been coming here for years, ever since he was in high school, and he just can’t quite break the habit. And the place has a kind of comforting familiarity that he doesn’t want to give up, especially when most of the baristas are friendly and know his order.

Since he’s pretty familiar with all the other regulars, it’s easy to notice when someone new shows up. And this guy would be hard to miss, anyway—he’s really attractive in that perfectly-symmetrical model kind of way, designer leather jacket and all. He’s also the kind of muscular, masculine guy that Stiles has learned not to let his gaze linger on too long.

So he’s only stolen a few glances over the past few days, just enough to let him know that mystery guy has perfect stubble and broad shoulders, but that’s about it. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself.

And that’s why he’s so surprised when, two steps out the door with his to-go cup, he hears someone say, “Hey, wait!”

Stiles turns around warily, and sees that it’s handsome mystery guy.

“Hi,” the guy says, giving him a big, friendly smile. “I’m Derek. And I was wondering if I could take you out on a date sometime?”

Stiles stares, a little taken aback, and there’s a lot of things he wants to say, like _I’m flattered_ or _you don’t even know me_ , but instead he just says, “You sure you want that? I’m trans.” Because he might as well get that out of the way first. Then he’ll hear something awful from this beautiful man, and he’ll leave, and Stiles will be able to enjoy his caffeine in peace.

But Derek doesn’t tell him he has the wrong parts, or that he’s delusional or a fake. He just says, “Okay,” in the same easygoing tone, and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Call or text me if you want to set something up,” he says, handing it over with another smile.

Stiles finds it breathtaking, though he tries not to.

Derek gives him a little wave, then climbs into a jet-black Camaro and drives away. Stiles watches him go, then looks down at the number carefully written on the paper, and makes a decision.

 

*

 

Stiles texts Derek, offering a date at the same coffee shop, on a Saturday afternoon. Derek agrees, then sends a little text—with a _smiley face_ at the end—asking if he could maybe have a name to go with his date. Stiles rolls his eyes at himself when he realizes he never gave it.

So he sends, _I’m Stiles_ , and is relieved when Derek doesn’t question it at all.

It’s Thursday, and he doesn’t have any class tomorrow, so he probably won’t see Derek again until their date. He hasn’t gone out with anyone in almost a year, and he finds that he’s a little nervous about the prospect.

Nervous, but maybe a little excited, too.

 

*

 

Stiles shows up to the coffee shop early, with Scott by his side. Scott will leave if things are going well, but Stiles doesn’t like to show up to first dates alone.

They find a good table and settle in, talking about class and sipping on their lattes. But they don’t have long to wait, because Derek shows up early, too.

“Hey,” Derek says warmly when he reaches their table, looking a little shy.

“Hi,” Stiles says, gesturing for him to take a seat. “This is my best friend Scott, who’s nonbinary,” he says, and Scott gives Derek a friendly smile. “His pronouns are he/him or they/them.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Derek says with an answering smile, and to Stiles it seems genuine.

And he doesn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that there’s an extra person on their date. Stiles considers that a point in his favor.

When Scott goes to pick up his coffee cup, Derek gets a good look at his hands. “Oh,” he says, leaning closer. “Your nails look amazing.”

“Thanks,” Scott says brightly, spreading his hands out on the table top so Derek can see better. Each nail is painted black, with a tiny constellation in white in the middle. “Stiles did them. He’s gotten really good over the years.”

“I got a lot of practice. Scott was always changing his mind about what color he wanted,” Stiles says to Derek, grinning. “And when he’d come over to get them repainted, he’d try to steal some of my clothes.”

“I always gave them back,” Scott huffs, laughing. “I didn’t see the harm, you weren’t wearing them anyway.”

Derek looks between them, obviously not really sure what they’re talking about. “Well, the practice must have paid off, because you’re very good. My sister would love to have something like that done,” he says.

“If my degree in forensics doesn’t work out, I’m definitely opening an underground nail salon,” Stiles jokes, amused by Derek’s enthusiasm. He points at his coffee cup. “We got started without you, but you can go order something if you want.”

“Yeah, I think I will,” Derek says. “Either of you want something while I’m up there?”

Scott waves him off, but Stiles says, “I could use a vanilla bean scone.”

“Sure,” Derek says easily, and heads up to the counter.

“Dude,” Scott says, as soon as he’s out of hearing range. “Derek is _really_ hot. Nice going, man.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, taking the opportunity to stare openly at Derek while he waits in line. “Though a little out of my league, if we’re being honest.”

“Nah,” Scott says, gently elbowing him in the side. “You’re in the same league, for sure. He seems super nice, too. I know you’re into that these days,” he adds cheerfully.

“Yeah, so far so good,” Stiles says, taking a sip of his coffee. “I thought maybe he came on this date because he didn’t want to seem, you know, transphobic after I told him. But it seems like he really wants to be here.”

“He totally does,” Scott says, nodding. “He looks like he has a million things he wants to say to you, and I bet none of them are gross.”

Stiles catches Derek sneaking a glance his way then, and he gives him a smile. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Derek comes back with _two_ vanilla bean scones. Stiles is flattered and pleased, but they _are_ expensive, so he talks Derek into eating half of one. He doesn’t regret it at all, especially when he sees Derek’s delighted face when he takes a bite.

They get to talking about what brought Derek to their town, and about Stiles’ classes, and Scott quietly slips away and leaves them to it. And though he was initially wary, Stiles can’t say that he minds.

Especially not when, after more than an hour talking, Derek shyly asks him on a second date.

 

*

 

Stiles doesn’t bring Scott on the next date, because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to. Though Derek appears to be intensely masculine, with his muscles and his stubble-beard, he’s actually surprisingly soft and sweet.

He’s also very athletic, as Stiles learns playing Frisbee with him in the park. He’d only agreed to running around in his jeans because Derek had promised him ice cream afterward. But in all honesty, watching Derek gracefully run and leap for Stiles’ wild throws is what keeps him there. Derek in action is a thing of beauty, and Stiles enjoys every minute of it.

He’s still not over the fact that someone who looks like _that_ wants to date _him_ , but he’s certainly not complaining.

He manages a fairly agile catch himself when Derek flings the Frisbee his way, and he notices Derek’s interested gaze with a grin. He throws it back with an easy flick of his wrist, feeling a little more confident.

It’s not exactly the way he expected to get sweaty with Derek, but the ice cream _does_ make up for it.

 

*

 

Stiles kisses Derek on the third date. Derek smiles and leans into it, kissing him again.

“Have you ever dated a trans guy?” Stiles asks suddenly.

“No,” Derek says, meeting Stiles’ gaze. “How am I doing so far?”

“A lot better than some of the others,” Stiles says, trying to keep his tone light. “What made you want to ask me out?”

“I thought you were really cute when I saw you in the coffee shop,” Derek says, scratching nervously at his stubble. “And then, a few days later, I heard you arguing with one of the baristas—Erica, maybe?—about whether or not raisins should be allowed in cookies. It was just a silly conversation, but.” He shakes his head, grinning. “You were so passionate about it.”

“What can I say, I have strong feelings about baked goods,” Stiles says, laughing.

“Yes, I believe you used the word _abomination_ at one point,” Derek says, still smiling.

“And I stand by that,” Stiles says firmly, trying to keep a straight face. He can’t hold onto it for long, though, Derek’s grin is infectious. “But that seriously made you want to ask me out?”

“Yeah,” Derek says, looking a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to have a conversation like that with you.”

Derek is so genuinely earnest, it sends a warm feeling through Stiles, and he’s suddenly so glad that Derek _did_ decide to ask him out. “Well, you’re in luck, I’m always happy to talk,” he says teasingly. “And you know, I thought you were pretty cute when I first saw you, too.” That’s totally a lie—he thought Derek was _incredibly hot_ —but Derek doesn’t need to know that.

Derek smiles, leans in close. “Cute enough for a fourth date?”

 

*

 

There’s a fourth date, and a fifth, and a sixth, and Stiles eventually stops counting as he and Derek begin to approach something more serious.

One evening, Derek invites him over and cooks him dinner, and Stiles ends up spending the night. When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn’t want to leave.

He likes being with Derek, likes the way Derek smiles at him, likes the way it feels to be in Derek’s arms. And he likes Derek’s apartment, which his far more spacious than the one he shares with Scott, and always feels comforting, just like Derek himself.

As the weeks go on, he ends up spending more and more time at Derek’s place. It’s not as close to campus as his, but Stiles finds that he doesn’t mind waking up a little earlier.

Derek is the new archivist for the Beacon Hills library, which means he works regular hours, but has a lot of flexibility, too. Which is nice, because that means he can come pick Stiles up when the jeep breaks down.

Sometimes Stiles goes to work with him, looks curiously through the old books and documents that are being scanned and catalogued. He likes watching Derek work, is always a little enraptured at the careful but confident way he handles the fragile paper and bindings.

It’s clearly something he’s suited for.

Stiles ends up gradually bringing more and more of his stuff to Derek’s place. He tells himself that it’s for convenience, but it’s really so he can stay longer. He ends up filling several drawers in Derek’s dresser, taking up half the bathroom counter, and adding some of his dishes to the kitchen, but Derek doesn’t seem to mind at all.

It’s not until Scott starts talking about ending the lease on their apartment, because he’d like to move in with Allison, that Stiles has to accept that he’s already essentially living with Derek.

“Do you think it’s too soon, though?” Stiles asks, when he brings up the idea of actually moving in with Derek. Like, for real.

“We’ve been dating almost a year,” Derek says, sliding his arms around Stiles’ waist. “And I’d love for you to move in with me—officially,” he adds, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ jaw.

“Okay,” Stiles says, leaning into him. Derek doesn’t seem worried by the idea, and it reassures him, deep down. He’d been sure for the longest time that no one would ever want something serious with him, and convinced himself that he didn’t want it, either. But he’s definitely changed his mind.

He brings the rest of his stuff to Derek’s— _their_ —apartment by the end of the next week.

 

*

 

Derek doesn’t really have much of a libido, and usually leaves it up to Stiles to initiate sex. And Stiles does, _a lot_. He loves sex. And he’s discovered that he really loves having sex with someone who cares about him.

Derek sometimes touches him the same way he handles those old manuscripts at the library, his fingers gently tracing the scars on Stiles’ chest or his palms softly cradling Stiles’ hips. But it’s not a feeling like Derek thinks he’s fragile, like he thinks Stiles might break apart, it’s more that he touches Stiles like he _matters_ , like he means so much to Derek, and that love comes shining through everything he does.

So Stiles definitely loves having sex with Derek.

He loves feeling Derek inside him just as much as he loves fingering Derek open while sucking him off. He loves the way Derek will lay back and let Stiles explore his body, and never gets impatient.

And now that he and Derek live together, and sleep in the same bed, everything seems even easier.

He tugs Derek’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back, and he doesn’t even have to ask anymore—Derek knows _exactly_ what Stiles looks like when he’s turned on. He still waits for permission though, and when Derek nods Stiles climbs astride him, loving the sweet perfect noise he makes when Stiles slides down on his cock.

He starts to move, in an easy, slow pace, because he’s not in any hurry. He gets a rush of contentment when Derek’s hands settle on his thighs, and he smiles softly up at Stiles. Eventually his eyes flutter shut as Stiles picks up speed, but the smile stays on his face.

He comes a few minutes later, gasping, and he reaches a hand down to stroke Stiles, urging him on until he comes, too. Stiles lowers himself down and rests his head Derek’s chest, feeling sated.

Sometimes, after Derek has caught his breath, he’ll lay Stiles out on the bed, and lick him open until he makes Stiles come again. Other times, they’ll just lay together quietly, and Derek’s hands will trace soothing patterns on his skin as they softly kiss.

Stiles can’t quite decide which one he prefers, because as long as he’s with Derek, it doesn’t matter.

 

*

 

Stiles has a month until graduation. He has excellent grades, a lot of internship experience, and a stellar resume. Though his dad’s not responsible for hiring in forensics, he’s pretty sure he’ll get the job without any help.

And it’ll be great if he does—he’ll get to see his dad regularly, and he’ll be able to stay here and build a life with Derek. It’s what he wants, more than anything.

They’re lying in bed that morning, and Stiles gently pulls on Derek’s arm until he rolls to face Stiles. He brushes his thumb along the curve of Derek’s jaw and says, softly, “I love you.”

He’s said it before, but he hopes this time it really conveys the depth of what he’s feeling—that he never imagined he could be this happy, that being with Derek has been amazing, and he knows it will continue to be. It took him a while to realize that he and Derek fit together just right, but he knows it now.

Derek smiles, tilts his head to kiss him, and Stiles knows he understands. “I love you, too.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
